


Blue Christmas

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek Winter Holidays Series [26]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: "Good Time Charlie's Got The Blues", Bickering, Blues, Buffet, Chocolate Reference, Christmas, Christmas Blues, Christmas Depression, Crew as Family, Depressed James T. Kirk, Developing Relationship, Friendship, Good times, Loneliness, M/M, Partying, Recreation Planet, Sadness, Shore Leave, Songfic, Spock And McCoy Getting It Together, casino - Freeform, drinking referenced, shuttle, song related, spa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21834349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: Jim Kirk is sad at the Holidays and not even the prospect of shore leave can cheer him up.  His crew is worried about him and rally around him and each other.
Relationships: Christine Chapel & Nyota Uhura, James T. Kirk & Montgomery "Scotty" Scott, Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock, Original Characters - Relationship, Pavel Chekov/Hikaru Sulu
Series: Star Trek Winter Holidays Series [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/670427
Comments: 15
Kudos: 19





	1. Do You See What I See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCoy asks Spock what is wrong with Kirk. Spock, of course, is obvious as are most of the other crew.

Leonard McCoy gave the guy with him a penetrating look that was supposed to alert the other guy that something significant was about to be said and that it was high time to listen up. “So, what’s wrong with the kid?”

Spock pulled his hands behind his back and drew himself up. He did not sniff with disdain, but he didn’t have to as he coolly eyed McCoy. Spock’s intention was clearly conveyed the way it was. “If you are indicating Captain Kirk, I do not know what is troubling him.”

“I must be in dire straits myself,” McCoy muttered, seemingly to himself. “If I’m asking you about how someone is feeling, I must be desperate for answers.”

But of course Spock heard, and of course he had an answer which was logical (the answer, not that he had an answer. Well, okay. Both.).

Spock’s barely contained contempt continued, but now for a different reason. “Even if I choose not to participate in public displays of emotions does not mean that I do not recognize when someone is suffering an emotional crisis.”

“Sir, I beg to differ!” McCoy shouted.

Spock’s eyes grew more hooded. “Doctor, I believe that you just spoke in jest. Am I not correct?”

McCoy leaned in and looked devious. “What was your first clue?”

“Your mocking words. You did not even flinch when you uttered them.”

“Now you’re able to understand people’s motives?! Boy, you do run hot and cold, Vulcan!”

“I prefer not to be compared with the selections on a water tap if you do not mind, Doctor.”

“That’s not what I-- Oh, forget it! But I am not going to forget my point of a moment ago.”

“That being?”

“That I differ with your assessment.”

“And which assessment is that?”

“That you recognize when someone is suffering an emotional crisis. I have moments of angst all of the time, yet you do not treat them with their proper amount of respect and consideration.”

“Doctor, those moments of angst as you call them are simply periods of intense ranting from you and do not qualify as true emotional crises.”

“They are to me!”

“You are simply venting, something akin to Mt. Vesuvius or Mt. Etna before they, too, explode, I would assume.”

“Now you’re getting snide!”

“And once again, you are ranting.”

“No venting?!”

“Not yet. But I assume that will be coming next.”

"Vulcan, it appears that both of us need some time away from each other. As for me, it cannot come quickly enough."

"You should be pleased to learn then that my planned activities on the recreation planet should in no way parallel those of yours."

"Well, then, that should be just one of the many blessings of this vacation then, shouldn't it?" He'd seemingly taken a great deal of pleasure in saying it, but could not account for the odd stab of disappointment that he felt deep inside himself. Odd, he thought. Oh, well, perhaps just a touch of indigestion brought on by too much time with Spock. Well, he'd certainly be taking care of that problem in short order.

There went that unaccountable stab again. And how come the Vulcan looked like he had dyspepsia, too? Perhaps Spock needed a break from him as much as he needed a break from Spock.

Nyota Uhura hurried into the space shuttle. She saw Christine Chapel trying to make eye contact, but ignored her and sat in the first available seat in front.

“Aye, lassie, thought you were going to miss the shuttle for sure,” Scotty said at the controls as he flew the shuttle out of the Enterprise.

“Makes two of us,” Uhura muttered. “Couldn’t believe that, either, after waiting so long for this shore leave.”

"I thought I'd have another no-show since Sulu and Chekov took an earlier shuttle."

Uhura tossed her hair with relief, then glanced around. Chapel pointedly looked away. “Where’s the captain? I thought that he’d come along if anyone would.” Her eyebrow went up slightly. “I thought he always had a lot of fun on a recreation planet.”

“Well, glory be!” McCoy crowed. “Thank you for noticing, Lieutenant! SOME of us hadn’t made that observation!” he said, clearly indicating Spock who was sitting across from him. “I very recently asked Mr. Spock what was wrong with the captain, and Spock said he hadn’t noticed.”

“I believe that you have not remembered correctly, Doctor,” Spock remarked in that haughty voice that was like metal grinding against metal for McCoy. “If you recall, I stated that even if I choose not to participate in public displays of emotions does not mean that I do not recognize when someone is suffering an emotional crisis. If I am not further mistaken, I believe that you will find that is a direct quote from me.”

“Well, if you will forgive ME,” McCoy exaggerated, “I was not recording you at the time, so I cannot state categorically for certain that that is a direct quote or not.”

“If you had been, Doctor, I believe that you would find that is exactly what I said.”

“Gentlemen, we seem to be forgetting the whole point of the discussion,” Scotty injected. “Just what seems to be the captain’s problem?”

“We don’t know, Mr. Scott,” McCoy answered. 

“Well, it seems as if you are going at it the wrong way,” Scotty decided. “Shouldn’t you just ask him?”

“Now what’s the fun of that, Mr. Scott?” Uhura snapped, suddenly tired of the whole silly conversation. She was in a hurry to get to her rendezvous on the recreation planet and really didn’t have time for McCoy and Spock’s squabbling that never seemed to go anywhere. She was also suddenly tired of these people she was with, even though they were generally like family to her. Sometimes a person just needed a change of scene, and this was one of those times.

In the sudden still inside the shuttle, Scotty took a moment to glance at Uhura. “Not fun, lass, concern.” He flew the shuttle into the bay. “Be ready to disembark in a jiffy,” he said without need because anyone in the shuttle could see that they were nearing their destination. He just wanted to fill the void in the conversation which he had just created.

Uhura felt like a heel, but wasn’t she entitled to a little privacy of her own? Yeah, she might be feeling guilty about not taking Chapel along, but Chapel wasn’t the most effective wing man. She wasn’t gay or outgoing or charming, the qualities that a good wing man needed to attract and involve some other hanger-on that needed to be pried away from the intended one.

Then Scotty muddied the field, so to speak, by dragging Chapel into the conversation. “Know anything about the captain’s problem, Nurse?”

Chapel tried to duck out of the conversation, but knew that she had to answer so the situation wouldn’t get any more awkward than it already was.

“I believe he received some disturbing news from home,” she replied.

“Oh?” Scotty asked with concern while Spock and McCoy gave her puzzled looks. Kirk had said nothing to them about something like that.

“Well, maybe not news per se,” she said as she looked up at them in defiance. “Sometimes this time of the year affects people adversely.”

“Time of the year?” Scotty questioned as he turned off the shuttle.

“The holidays!” Chapel declared as she jumped from her seat in back, pushed past those ahead of her, and dashed from the shuttle.

Scotty blinked. “Goodness, the wee lass can move when she wants to, canna she? Wonder what her problem is?”

“I don’t know,” McCoy answered as he pulled himself to his feet. “Maybe we should ask Mr. Spock about Chapel’s motives, since he is so sensitive to the emotions of others and all.”

Spock arched an eyebrow, but refused to get sucked into McCoy’s tirade. Of course that angered McCoy that Spock had not taken the bait for another attack.

"Well, and where might you two gentlemen be headed?" Scotty asked Spock and McCoy heartily as they filed past him. Scotty had seized on that question mainly to change the topic.

"I don't know about our man Spock here, but I'm gonna be checking up on some mighty fine action down at one of the planet's glittering casinos," McCoy answered. "Just like Las Vegas, those places never sleep."

Scotty looked puzzled. "I dinna know you were a participant in the sporting life, Doctor."

"I'm not. But I figure that would be the last place that Spock would enter. So that's where you're gonna find me. Anyplace he isn't."

Scotty flinched, even though Spock didn't. That was mean, even for McCoy to say. Surely the slight had registered with Spock, even though he didn't act like it.

The shuttle quieted after they exited.

“Well, lass, are you gonna debark or not?” Scotty wanted to know as he studied Uhura. “You seemed in such a hurry before.”

With a deep breath, Uhura gathered herself up as she stood. She was determined not to feel guilty. “I am. I’m meeting good friends.”

“Lass,” Scotty said with a frown, yet he still tried to speak gently. “You came with good friends. Donna be forgetting that.”

“Whatever,” Uhura mumbled as she hurried past him and out of the shuttle.

Scotty sighed. Well, this shore leave was getting off to a bang. It could drive a man to drink.

That improved Scotty’s disposition immediately as he left in search of his first drink on this planet.


	2. Good Time Charlie's Got The Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim Kirk feels that life is passing him by while the crew is not very pleased with their shore leave.

Jim Kirk stared unseeing as he watched the filled glass he was absently twirling in his fingers. The words of an old country-western song played through his mind, whether he wanted it to or not. But it was saying what was haunting him and gnawing at his gut.

“Everybody's gone away  
Said they're movin' to L.A  
There's not a soul I know around  
Everybody's leavin' town

Some caught a freight. Some caught a plane….”

No, he scolded himself. He shouldn’t be thinking of those lyrics. That made it sound like he was pissed off because his crew had merrily gone on shore leave and left him to be all alone without another thought about him. It wasn’t right because that wasn’t the truth. He could’ve gone with them. Each one of them (except the ladies) would’ve lain on the floor of the shuttle so he could have a seat. It wasn’t because he couldn’t go; it was because he didn’t want to go. And it was nobody’s fault but his own. He did it as a favor to them, really. He knew he would’ve been lousy company.

Kirk forced himself to sit up with a deep sigh as he left the shot glass with its untouched alcohol on the table. It wasn’t alcohol he was needing. It was something, something he couldn’t quite name. Something that was nagging him. Something that was reminding him that Time was passing him by. Something that was whispering that it might already be too late.

“Some gotta win! Some gotta lose  
Good time Charlie's got the blues”

The movie “The Princess Bride” was supposed to be a comedy, but it had scared the hell out of Jim Kirk when he had first seen it. And forever afterward he could never think of it as being funny. For after the hero Westley is captured by the villain, he has his youth stolen from him. Yes, it was restored, but the damage had been done to young Kirk. Time is the one thing we can never get back. And that fact was chilling the hell out of James T. Kirk.

Because. Time. Was. Passing. Him. By.

And what did he have to show for it?

“You know my heart keeps tellin' me  
You're not a kid at thirty-three”

No, no one’s a kid at thirty-three. Even if he tried to act like it. And here Jim Kirk was, still staring at the right end of thirty-three. But in a few scant months, he would reach that magic age. And then Jim Kirk would be staring at the wrong end of thirty-three. Forever.

He tried to tell himself that he should be lucky to be that old. A lot of people never get to reach their third decade. Hell, when he thought about it, nine is middle-age for those who die at eighteen. In what universe was that even logical? Or even fair?

He supposed it was that chatty letter he’d received from Aunt Mae that had done it. Aunt Mae, who was still living in the small Iowa town and sending out a Christmas card every year because it made her feel smug about doing her Christian charity to the errant nephew who never returned home, not even for funerals. 

Of course, Mae Meyerson wasn’t really his aunt. She was just someone who had adopted her nephew’s friends into their family clan and treated the guys like they belonged, whether they did or not. Jim Kirk secretly appreciated that inclusion because there really wasn’t much acceptance from his own blood relatives. And Mae kept the guys up on news about each other.

And that was what had put Jim Kirk over the edge. The news about his buddies and other hometown folks. And thoughts about Christmas the way it used to be. Back when he and Deke and Sam and Jamie rode their sleds down snowy farm hills. Back when Grandma made her snickerdoodle cookies every Christmas and Grandpa told his same stories about "life back when he was a kid on the farm."

Now Deke Foster was a successful cardiologist in Chicago and didn’t go by the name of “Deke” anymore.

Sam Tuttle had purchased his fifth farm in Ohio and was marrying another wife, a striking beauty twenty years his junior. Sam had probably lost track of how many children he’d sired, but he was setting them up well in life.

And Jamie Taylor had become a grandfather. For the third time.

Jamie Taylor. Kirk remembered him as a guy who could barely wipe his own ass without making a mess of himself. How could a guy like that even figure out what to do with a woman? But yet now here was that same Jamie as the head of a dynasty. He must’ve persuaded some young thing to go all the way with him at some time.

And what did Jim Kirk have? Outside of a job, what did he really have? 

Kirk grimaced.

What did he really have? Nothing of real importance, that was what was damn sure!

So feeling that way, the best thing he knew he could do for his crew was to let them go on shore leave without him. What did they need with him spoiling their fun and making them sad?

And if Kirk was honest with himself, he had to admit that he was missing those long-ago Christmases back in Iowa. They hadn't been perfect, not with the squabbling relatives and Uncle Ned who always managed to get blubbery drunk on Christmas Eve. But those times were familiar and even predictable in their craziness. And he missed them. And the people who had caused them. Because the older ones, like Grandpa and Grandma, were in the cemetery on the hill overlooking the English River and the younger ones like Deke and Sam were scattered like he was. And what had once been his life could never be the same again.

And every once in awhile, like at Christmas, that fact was brought thundering back to Kirk and ripped the heart right out of him. Those times were lost to him forever and he'd never get them back.

Nyota Uhura came thundering out of the hotel lounge where she’d just stormed away from friends she’d been dying to see again. How shallow they had seemed now! How petty! How, how humiliating to think that they had once been so important to her! Well, no more! She was sick and tired of being around cats! What she wanted was the company of a real person!

“Oh! Excuse me!” she exclaimed as she practically ran over someone. “Oh! Christine! I didn’t see you! I’m sorry!”

“That’s alright, Nyota,” Chapel said meekly. “I was just going upstairs to watch some television and then call it a night.”

A real person! Ask for it, and it is given!

“No, you’re not! You’re going with me!”

“I, I don’t understand,” Chapel stammered. “What about your friends?”

“We don't have the same interests anymore. They're different."

And Chapel, who knew what it felt like to be lonely in a crowd, gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry."

Uhura shrugged. "It's alright. I'm different, too." She grabbed Chapel’s arm. “Come on! We’re going to get the skimpiest swimwear we can find and go sunbathe at the pool! Then we’re going to spend a ton of money and a lot of time at the hotel’s spa!”

“B-but--”

“What are you waiting for? Hell, girl, we’re worth it! Now let’s go bare some skin! We’ve got pores that ain’t been breathing right out in space! And we’re long overdue to do something about it!”

Chapel’s eyes flashed with adventure. “Alright!” she crowed as she fell into step with Uhura.

That medical exhibit hadn’t been half as much fun or as informative as he had thought it was going to be, McCoy decided as he exited the amphitheater. Now if Spock had been with him, they could have discussed each new idea for its plausibility and usefulness. They probably would have taken opposing viewpoints just for the hell of it, just for the sake of argument. And maybe they wouldn’t have learned much that was new, but they would have entertained each other.

That thought stopped McCoy in his tracks. How many times when he and Spock had been arguing had they also been company for each other? Was it possible that they actually needed each other? Sure made a guy stop and think.

“Doctor? Are you lost?”

“Hmm?” McCoy looked up to find Spock giving him a concerned look. “What did you ask?”

“You seem preoccupied. Do you need help finding your way back to your hotel room?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” McCoy mumbled.

“Oh.” Spock actually sounded disappointed that he could not accompany McCoy. Could it be that Spock was adrift without McCoy’s company, also?

McCoy decided to take a chance. “Actually, I was looking for someone to hang out with. Know anyone with some free time?”

“That depends on what you were wishing to do.”

McCoy shrugged. “Something together.”

Spock indicated a small restaurant in front of them. “This business seems to serve refreshments for thirsty wanderers. You could perhaps find a fine whiskey to sample here while we eat.”

“But there are no intoxicants available for you.” It hardly seemed fair for Spock to do without.

“I believe that this establishment also offers a selection of fine chocolate from Terran, including those from Switzerland and the Netherlands. If I am in a jaunty mood, chocolate can be quite intoxicating for me.”

McCoy brightened. “Sounds like just what the doctor ordered! Come on, Spock! Let's go get drunk and see what happens!”

Scotty was about to enter a casino when he met Sulu and Chekov leaving it.

“Going to try your luck, Mr. Scott?” Sulu asked with a gentle grin.

“I was looking for Dr. McCoy. He said he was going to a casino.”

“He wasn’t in there.” He studied Scotty’s drawn face. “Is there a problem?”

“Oh, I’m still worried about the captain. I called him and he seems so listless.”

Sulu squeezed Scotty’s arm. “You’re a good man, Mr. Scott. Now supposing we go back inside and eat at the buffet? It’s the cheapest meal in town. They do it to lure gamblers to the slots and the tables.”

“Aye, aye, aye,” Chekov muttered beside him. “The only thing I’m taking a chance on anymore is the food.”

Sulu gave him a gentle smile, too. “Come on, the both of you. Food improves the outlook for anyone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing of the song "Good Time Charlie's Got The Blues" nor do I represent any of the singers or their estates who have sung it.


	3. The More We Get Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shore leave improves. The crew learns who is really important to them. And Spock and McCoy get it together.

Leonard McCoy opened his eyes and sleepily tried to decide why he was feeling so contented when all of the reports he was getting from his sore body were indicating that he must've been the loser in one helluva fistfight. Maybe his contentment had something to do with the arm that was drawn around his midsection so possessively and the nude male body pressed very intimately against his backside as if it had every right to be there. That would improve most any situation, McCoy decided.

Yeah, McCoy knew that the person with him was nude. And yeah, he knew it was a male. He didn’t have to have taken umpteen courses in anatomy in premed to know that much about physiology. Any good mirror would’ve given him the same information about a male body. And as far as nakedness went, well, that was knowledge that just came naturally. There's no sensation like the feel of that much bare skin against that much other bare skin. And McCoy could feel a lot of bare skin touching his.

And all of this information was coming down to one wonderful conclusion for McCoy.

He must’ve had one helluva night last night, that was all that he could decide. And it must've been a very amorous one. And very physical.

And maybe, with luck, the excitement wasn’t over yet. After all, the person with him was male and nude. Damn good start for whatever the morning might bring with it, McCoy decided. Because, plus, all of the fundamentals were there: the exposed genitalia of two healthy males in the prime of life. And apparently he and the other guy must’ve been able to figure out what to do with those fundamentals, even if they were both drunk on their intoxicants of choice.

Again, he checked the arm across his belly and dangling toward the McCoy Family Jewels as if the owner of the fingers had every right to entangle them in McCoy’s genitals. But that wasn't the most important discovery. The arm holding him so possessively was green. At any other time, McCoy would’ve been mad as hell to realize that the bare arm holding him was that color, but for some reason it seemed alright now.

And right now, he also realized that he’d be mad as hell if that green arm didn’t belong to Spock. In fact, it seemed to be the way that it was supposed to be with them. Go figure that one!

He must’ve had one helluva night with Spock in more ways than one. For starters, they must’ve found something to do beside arguing and ingesting intoxicants. And their further activities must’ve agreed with both of them. Because here they were, both alive and apparently contented as hell with their current situation.

McCoy rolled in the arms until he was facing the guy who was calmly watching him.

McCoy gave him a weak smile. “I assume you’re the one responsible for me feeling the way I do.”

“I certainly hope so,” Spock answered.

“And I also assume you’re the one who gave me a thorough going over, inside and out.”

“I certainly hope so,” Spock repeated, but this time there was the hint of a warm smile on his lips. "At least that is my happy recollection."

“And I certainly hope that you’re sore as hell, too.” But instead of his usual grumbling, McCoy was saying this with twinkling eyes.

“Certain parts of me,” Spock whispered, not being able to keep the emotion out of his voice forever. For he had been quite caught up in their activities overnight and now found that he had very warm regards for the guy who'd given himself to him so trustingly. “Certain very lucky parts of mine are quite tender this morning.”

McCoy slung his arm around Spock’s neck. “Wanna make those parts of yours sore again?”

Spock frowned. “If you are sore, too, I do not want to irritate you.”

McCoy increased the pressure around Spock’s neck. “I can take anything you got for me, Vulcan,” he growled. “I just want to know if you’re man enough to keep it coming so that I’m satisfied.”

Spock’s eyes warmed. “I certainly hope so, Doctor,” he said as he allowed his head to be drawn down to McCoy’s waiting lips.

They both found out that Spock could keep the action coming as many times as they required. Which happily turned out to be quite a few.

“I canna find Dr. McCoy anywhere, Mr. Spock, but I’m uneasy about the captain. I think that we should cut our shore leave short and return to the Enterprise.”

“We will meet you at the shuttle,” Spock told Scotty over the telephone.

“Oh? You know where Dr. McCoy is then?” Scotty asked.

“I have a good idea.” Spock hung up.

“What was that all about?” McCoy mumbled as he stepped out of the bathroom, his body still damp from the shower.

“Mr. Scott wanted to know where you are. He thinks we should return to the Enterprise.” 

“And you told him what about my whereabouts?”

“I should have said that you were not in my bed, where you are supposed to be,” Spock answered as he reached over to McCoy and deftly stripped the white towel off McCoy’s middle.

"Hey! That's breezy!"

Spock gave McCoy a satisfied look of assessment. “There. I like you better that way.”

“How?! Naked as a jaybird?! Covered with goosebumps because my ass is freezing even in this sauna?! Got it hotter than the hubs of hell in here!” he muttered.

“I like you ready for action,” Spock answered with interest. "Like now?'

“Really?! Again?! I just showered!”

“We will take the next one together, if you are interested in engaging in activities which would necessitate another cleansing of your sweaty body. For I assure you, Doctor, I plan to create all sorts of vulgar sensations on your body, the least of which will be perspiration.”

"Really? You must have it in hyperdrive, don't you? What's the problem? A long dry spell with no nookie?"

"A long time without the proper stimulation. And now I believe that I have found it. If you are interested in a long term commitment with me, I am willing to offer it."

Was Spock saying what he thought he was saying? If so, he certainly wasn't wasting any time! "You mean?"

"I mean that I am offering a relationship with you. If you are interested." His face was grim and his mouth was one straight line, but his eyes were fearful. And pleading.

McCoy had that much effect on him?! Wow! How could he turn that away?! Besides, the Vulcan had a hell of an effect on him, too!

McCoy grinned. “Deal!” he announced and watched relief flood Spock's face. Then hunger.

Why the hell not, McCoy thought as Spock reached for him. If the Vulcan wanted him again, why the hell not.

What a helluva shore leave this was turning out to be!

“Well, don’t you ladies look very comely today,” Scotty greeted at the shuttle door.

“Christine and I spent some very good time in a spa,” Uhura answered as she propelled an equally elegantly coiffed Chapel with her into the shuttle and found seats for them close together. 

Their makeup had likewise turned them into beings not from the everyday world. The effect of their makeovers would cause any male to look up and take notice. No wonder Scotty was stunned. He appreciated female beauty as much as any other healthy male, and these two gals were stunning.

“Well, the results were very much worth the effort,” Scotty added, still struck by the enhanced beauty of women he spent time around every day. Spa time is always worthwhile for females.

At that moment Spock and McCoy appeared in the shuttle door.

“Mr. Spock!” Scotty greeted. “You found the good doctor and brought him here!”

“I’m not needing a keeper yet!” McCoy snarled at the lovable engineer.

Spock grabbed McCoy’s arm. “Careful, Doctor. You nearly tripped.”

Scotty, Chapel, and Uhura braced for a repeating of McCoy’s last statement-- except delivered several decibels louder since it was going to be aimed at his nemesis. When it didn’t come, Scotty looked puzzled, Chapel looked relieved, and Uhura looked wise as a grin tugged at her lips. So Spock and McCoy had made good use of their shore leave, too, she thought. Good for them!

Jim Kirk looked up when his door chimed. Since only a skeleton crew was manning the ship, he could not think who it could possibly be. Everyone else was on the recreation planet, presumably having a well-earned good time.

“Come,” he answered, deciding that the only way to solve the mystery was through the obvious way. With his luck, it would be somebody from the skeleton crew with a worrisome problem that wouldn’t even be interesting, just aggravating.

Was Kirk surprised when his door slid open and his friends noisily crowded into his quarters!

“What’s this?” he asked with interest as he stood.

“Since you were not coming to the party, Captain,” Scotty answered, “we decided to bring the party to you.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” Kirk mumbled the appropriate social nicety.

With a smile filled with warmth and robust feelings, Scotty hoisted up a bottle of good drinking whiskey. “I’m thinking you canna say no to Jim Beam!”

Kirk gave him a genuine smile. “You’re right at that, Scotty. Thanks.”

“I’m thinking of us, lad! Shore leave was not the same without you.”

“Sorry I spoiled your vacation.”

“Now, good times are where your friends are. Are they not?”

Scotty was not going to let Kirk hide in his little hole of self-pity, and Kirk loved him for it. He loved them all, he decided as he looked around at these people-- his coworkers, his crew, his friends.

“That is true, Mr. Scott. But who are these pretty ladies that you’ve brought with you?” he asked, as he decided to shift the attention away from himself.

Uhura and Chapel preened as the guys who treated them as kid sisters looked at them with loving eyes. Chekov entertained them for a few relaxing minutes with his story of finally hitting the jackpot in the casino, only to lose it at the faro table on his way out the door. But by the look that Sulu was giving him, Chekov was no loser on that shore leave.

“I think this calls for a drink!” Kirk announced, determined to be jolly for the sake of his friends. And it worked, for immediately he began to feel better as he thought of others.

Scotty passed around the alcohol. Then they paused with glasses raised.

And McCoy, who figured correctly that part of Kirk’s melancholy was due to the Holiday Season stirring up memories of things that couldn’t be anymore, proposed the toast. “Here’s to absent friends.”

But Kirk quickly amended it because he was realizing how lucky he really was.

“And to friends who are with us now,” Kirk offered.

“Hear, hear,” they all echoed.

For they all knew that new memories were what enabled them to face a past they could never have again.

And maybe that's the real blessing of the Holiday Season after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.


End file.
